


Our Love Is Reality

by tv_addict007



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Character Death (in a way), Clexa, F/F, F/M, Romance, Sounds probably more confusing as it is, Two different lives (real and unreal), computer simulation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-19 15:42:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10642941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tv_addict007/pseuds/tv_addict007
Summary: Clarke failed in her mission to bring Luna the flame. Just like she failed to protect her friends. But now it was too late, too late for her and she was ready to welcome the lingering darkness. But once again, nothing was as it seemed and Clarke finds herself in a very unlikely situation, making her question everything she knew.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I already started this story some time ago, having already posted the first chapter on ff.net.  
> Hope you like it.

**Chapter 1**

Her head was pounding, a strong and piercing ache right at the back of her head. It felt as if someone had hit her with a sledge, repeatedly, using her as a workbench. The pain made her nauseous, and all Clarke wanted to do at this moment was to curl up on her side and go back to unconsciousness. Going back to oblivion, the black nothingness that felt so soothing, so welcoming to her.

Then she remembered. She was in Arcadia, she was in the Ark.

At least, what had been left of the Ark. Her home. Her old home planted firmly on the ground of her new home. Two worlds clashing into each other. Earth and sky, violence and peace, freedom and confinement.

Her past and her future.

So much had happened since her father had died, taking the careless and happy part of herself with him. That moment had changed everything for her. She had spent her time in isolation with grieve and the knowledge that she’ll soon follow him. There had been no doubts that the council would have floated her.

But, oh how wrong she had been. She had gotten a second chance. To survive. To live.

Down here on earth.

Yet, having spent almost a year on earth, Clarke had to admit that she did indeed die. The old Clarke – the Ark-Clarke – had left a long time ago, leaving another version of herself to continue on. She was more hardened, more calculated and was able to make tough calls. Calls, for which some people hated her – and probably will hate her until the very end.

She was a killer. A mass murderer.

She was a monster.

And she had accepted her fate. Had accepted the fact that she may never recognize herself anymore. It wasn’t like she had many choices, seeing that if she wouldn’t have accepted and embraced her new reality and especially the person she had become she’d surely have gone crazy, ending in a pitiful death.

And she hadn’t been ready for that.

Clarke hadn’t done all those things just to end like that, just like that. She couldn’t leave this world without knowing her mother and her friends were safe. They were all her family, they were all she had left. They remembered her that there had been a time in her life that wasn’t cluttered with blood and death. Yes, they all did horrible things since landing on earth, but they were all trying. Trying to find a place on the ground and live a peaceful life.

However misunderstandings and bad luck had shattered her dreams of a beautiful and untouched world. The picture-perfect imagination of the earth had shattered the moment a spear had been run through Jasper’s chest. Since that moment, Clarke had walked on those broken pieces of her childhood dreams day in, day out, the bone-chilling sound of the crunching echoing in her ears as if it was the only thing she heard.

When Lexa had sent Roan to fetch her and bring her to Polis, she hadn’t been ready. The knowledge of what she had done and whom she had become not yet accepted. She had run, as far away as she could. Sometimes she found herself wondering if her dad would still recognize her. Still see his little princess when he’d look into her eyes.

The innocence washed away from her blue eyes.

Lexa had reached out to her, challenged her. Brought her back from her self-isolated state. And she had known very well that Clarke couldn’t ignore her and reality anymore when there was the chance for a better life for her friends was within reach. That life she had wanted for them and herself all along. And maybe then she could finally settle, find her own piece.

But again, a situation arose. Her bad luck hitting her straight in the face again. That was what her new life was now - solving problems, leading wars and intrigues and losing more and more of her friends. It was all a huge circle, and she didn’t know how to break it.

Until Lexa. Until _jus drein no jus daun_.

Those words had inflamed new hope in Clarke. Hope, that with Lexa she finally could achieve those goals and create a better life for all of them. She had trusted Lexa to have all the answers. Let herself fall into a net of too many emotions and false security. Let herself act on her feelings, giving in to Lexa and relishing in the here and now with someone whom seemed to understand her completely. And even while knowing that they’d have to bid their farewells she had hoped that after solving their current problem with Arcadia, there was something waiting for them at the other end. Though there had been close calls, Lexa appeared untouchable. She’d still be there at the end of it all.

But she hadn’t been untouchable, and one of the many intrigues had caught up to them. Quick and merciless, ripping Lexa from her. Her love and her hope. Once more, the broken pieces Clarke had picked up on her way were lying to her feet again. The overwhelming feeling of grieve swamping her.

She was alone again.

Was she really? Yes, Lexa was dead and Clarke knew once this was all over and she’d finally have a moment for herself again, all of the events would rush through her, and she knew all too well that she’ll lose the ground under her feet. It began with her dad, then Wells, Finn and now Lexa, and she had no idea where it would finally stop. Will it ever stop? Was she fighting a battle she couldn’t possibly win?

Lexa was dead, but there were still people out there whom needed her. And she needed them. She wasn’t alone. Figuratively and literally. Her friends were with her, here in Arcadia. Her friends. Bellamy, Octavia, Raven, Harper, Miller, Bryan, Jasper and Monty. They had been with her. Where were they?

Ignoring the desire to curl together Clarke groaned as she moved her hand to the back of her head. She couldn’t feel any liquid, but the pain and the nausea were a pretty good indication for a concussion. Whatever had hit her, hit her good.

Clarke opened her eyes and after a few seconds she was able to focus on the things in front of her. She was still in the Ark, sprawled out on the cold metal ground. Sadly, none of her friends were in sight.

Groaning once more the blonde managed to sit up slowly, her surroundings spun for a few seconds and she closed her eyes again to calm down again. After making sure that all white dots had disappeared Clarke opened her eyes again, finding her focus faster this time.

“Look who’s finally joining our party.”

Startled at the sudden voice from a person standing behind her Clarke hurriedly stood up and turned around, though too fast for her head and once again her world was upside down and for a few seconds she felt like she was about to throw up.

“Not much a partier, are you?”

As Clarke opened her eyes again she stared directly at one of the few people she had hoped to never see again.

Carl Emerson.

The one ghost that seemed to haunt her for the rest of her life. Rightly so. He was her punishment. Though she had hoped that he’d re-surfaced at a better time. Preferably when her friends were safe and she had brought the spirit to Luna. “There’s nothing for me to celebrate.”

“How about a funeral?”

Frowning at Emerson she watched him moving to the side, giving her a clear few of what lay before her. Her eyes widened at what she saw. Her friends, hands bound together and gagged, held captive in the very room she had held Emerson prisoner. Her heart stopped at the sight. More death?

“Emerson…” Clarke breathed and shook her head slightly.

Emerson snapped at her voice, at her silent plea. Quickly stepping up to her Emerson got a hold of her and if she wouldn’t feel so light-headed, she would’ve put up a better fight against the man. “No! You took everything from me. It’s only fair for me to take everything from _you_ now.”

Clarke watched him hitting a button on the controller and looked in horror of how the air was sucked out of the room her friends were locked in, kicking and screaming. “Watch them die.”

“Please!” Clarke pleaded again, but Emerson’s hold of her remained steadfast. She knew Emerson, knew that his hate for her and all of the Sky People would hinder him from taking mercy on them. No, he wanted revenge. He wanted her to suffer. Feel the pain and grieve like he did. Be the last of her kind, like he was the last of the Mountain Men.

A walking memory of the people whom fell from the sky.

Collecting all the strength she had left in her Clarke whipped her head back, connecting her head with Emerson’s in hope of loosening his chokehold. That action didn’t really help with her already injured head, her vision blurred and oblivion was once again calling for her. But Emerson did indeed lose his hold on her and she swayed forward as his arm left her body, making it ungracefully and on wobbly legs back to the controller.

Her fingers were already on the button to stop the air being sucked out of the room her friends were in and open the door, but she was suddenly pulled back by force, crashing hard onto the ground. It took a few seconds for Clarke to comprehend what had just happened, but it was enough for Emerson to place his hands on her throat, squeezing tightly.

Just like her friends, the blonde was now fighting for air.

Clarke put her hands on Emerson’s arms, trying but failing to slacken his grasp. Gasping, Clarke started to struggle under Emerson, and panic flooded through her system. She saw something lying to her left and as she turned her head slightly to see what it was, Clarke was pleased to see the discarded gun from Bellamy there.

Acting quickly, Clarke grabbed it and brought it hard on Emerson’s head whom yelped and let go of Clarke. Sucking in as much air as possible, she used the rush of adrenaline and quickly making her way back to the controller, hitting the button before Emerson even had the chance to hinder her again.

The alarm in the other room disappeared and after a few seconds of making sure that her friends were indeed alive, Clarke hit the other button and opened the door to the room. Without glancing back at Emerson she hurried over to Bellamy, cutting him loose from his bonds. She was about to move over to Octavia when she heard a metallic click, and just as she turned around Clarke heard the unmistakable noise of a gunshot.

Inhaling sharply, a hot and piercing pain erupted in her chest. Just like when she woke up a few moments ago, the world around her spun and she lost any feeling of time. She heard someone yelling her name, but she couldn’t make out who it was.

Probably Bellamy, she guessed.

Clarke was aware of herself staggering backwards and she prepared herself for the inevitable crash, landing hard on the floor, probably for the last time. This time Clarke knew that she won’t get up again. This was it, this was the end. After so many fights, after so much loss and pain. This was how it would all end for her.

Yet the crash never came. Instead, the blonde girl felt arms around her body, pulling her in. Her eyes flickered up and she saw Bellamy staring down at her, the despair plainly on his face. Bellamy pulled her closer to him, searching cover from the oncoming bullets which Emerson angrily sent their way. He said something to her, but she couldn’t make out the words.

It was ironic, it really was. She had survived the hail of bullets Titus had fired at her, losing Lexa because of that. Lexa. The brunette girl with pure green eyes. The great commander of the twelve clans. Her partner in crime whom had wanted peace. Just like her. That was all they had wanted.

And they paid dearly for their foolish dream.

Darkness clawed at her, reality blurred. Clarke felt a lone tear rolling down her cheek. A tear symbolizing all her dreams, all she had lost. It stood for all the grieve she had experienced, and for all the brief moments of happiness. It stood for hope and freedom. It stood for the innocence she had lost on earth, and the person she had become.

The tear stood for the end.

The last thing on her mind before the darkness fully engulfed her was how she had failed. How she had failed the people she cared for. She had failed to protect them. She failed to protect the little chip in her pocket, failed to deliver it safely to Luna. She had failed Lexa.

Clarke had given all she had but once again, it hadn’t been enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke wakes up and we'll see a familiar face again....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

**Chapter 2**

The first thing she was aware of was a loud, annoying beeping noise. It dinned somewhere close to her ear, and it made the headache she was nursing worse. Her throat felt dry and as she moved her arm up her body, it felt like lifting an anvil, the movement clumsy and rusty. As if she hadn’t moved it in ages.

The ground beneath her felt soft, softer than anything she could remember having used as a bed the last few nights. It was warm and comfy. Clarke could’ve laid there forever, enjoying the feeling of peace, even if it was just for a moment.

But the ache in her head pulled her out of the peaceful state and Clarke opened her eyes slowly. Her headache wasn’t as painful as she remembered, more like a dulling pain. And she was grateful for that as she opened her eyes, meaning that she at least didn’t have to deal with nausea.

Finally having her eyes open Clarke slowly began to take in her surroundings, letting the world back in. She stared directly at the concrete ceiling, and she could tell that the room was only dimly lit up. Moving her arm once again she became aware of something strapped to her body and when her eyes flickered down Clarke saw various cables attached to different parts of her body, yet most of the cables were attached to her head.

Did she suffer a serious head injury?

Clarke tried to remember what had happened. She remembered the Ark, remembered Bellamy and the others. She remembered the flame she wanted to bring Luna, safely tucked away in her pocket. There was also Emerson and she suddenly remembered taking a serious hit to the head – more than once.

Her hands shot up to her chest as she remembered the gunshot, but there was no pain. Pushing away the thin cover Clarke inspected herself closer. She was dressed in a plain white shirt and grey sweats. Closer inspecting the area where she knew the bullet had hit her, she found nothing. There was nothing that indicated that she had been shot. Not even a scar. Nothing.

Was it all a dream? Had her head injury been that bad that she had been in a coma? How long had she laid here?

Moving her eyes to her right to further inspect her room, Clarke inhaled sharply when she took in her surroundings. She wasn’t alone in the room, it wasn’t even a room. It was a hall. And dozens of people were lying in a single bed, being attached to machines. Just like her. Looking to her left, she was greeted with the same picture.

Where the hell was she?

Slowly detaching herself from the machines Clarke slipped out of the bed. Her legs felt like jelly and she quickly grabbed onto the bed to keep herself on her legs. She took another look around the hall. The beds were lined up next to each other, separated each by three feet. Glancing at the sleeping people, they were dressed like her. Even the machines were the same. Did they all have the same condition?

Another thing Clarke picked up about the room was the impersonality. Clarke couldn’t detect anything, not even charts with the patient histories. However there were all numbers above the beds and her eyes intuitively flickered up towards her own bed.

_#319_

This place made her nervous. Very nervous. There was something about it that didn’t seem right. It obviously wasn’t a normal medical ward that much was clear. But she couldn’t fathom what else this place could be. It felt a little like Mount Weather, but that couldn’t be. Mount Weather was gone, literally. The Mountain Men dead and the accommodations blown up.

But who on earth was this equipped?

There was no chance that the Grounders would be able to provide a place like this. It was too technical. The only ones left were her own people. Yet Clarke knew that most of the technical instruments had been lost by the landing of the Ark, and the equipment that had survived needed power.

Power they didn’t have.

Still a little wobbly on her legs, Clarke managed to move to the bed to her left. There laid a brown haired man. He almost looked serene. But the blonde girl didn’t know him. He was a stranger. A nobody. A number.

Just like her.

Number Three-Twenty seemed to be in his mid-twenties and from what she saw he appeared to be in good shape. Clarke couldn’t see any injuries, and he wasn’t looking sick to her. Still, he was in a coma. She stared at the little monitor next to his bed, but the data seen on the screen made no sense to her, couldn’t decipher what they were telling her.

The next bed was occupied by an older woman, owning the number Three-Twenty-One. Her black hair was in stark contrast to her pale clothes and the white bedding.

How did they all end up here?

Clarke started another attempt to stand on her feet and she was pleased to find herself standing firmly, albeit swaying a little. Her balance needed some more time, but at least she could walk around slowly – if she stayed close to the bed rails in case her legs gave way under her.

Carefully she made her way down the line of beds, keeping her gaze on the people lying on the beds. She couldn’t recognize any of them. Clarke made her way gradually down the hall, the faces kept passing just like their numbers. Three-Thirty, Three-Thirty-One, Three-Thirty-Two,…

Suddenly she heard a commotion at the other end of the hall. Turning around Clarke saw a man entering, completely dressed in white. The man wore a glasses and his blonde short hair could certainly use a good wash.

He looked up and his eyes met hers.

Time stood still.

Clarke saw him gazing the beds and the moment his eyes fell upon her empty one, she knew he connected the dots. The man’s posture changed immediately as his head shot back towards her, mouth agape and eyes wide open.

She guessed that her own expression wasn’t so different from his.

Clarke observed all of his movements. She had learnt the hard way to not trust just anyone. It could end very badly. Her past had marked her, trust would never come easy again.

The man moved slowly backwards, though she didn’t know if it was because he saw her as a threat or if he didn’t want to frighten her. One step at a time, his eyes stayed on her. A shudder run down her back and she tensed up. She didn’t like the latest progress.

He arrived back at the door on the other side of the hall and just like before he just stood there sparingly. Nothing had changed, but there was something in his demeanor that made her uneasy. He was more composed now, almost determined.

His arm rose up and his hand hovered over a round button.

Her eyes widened and her heart hammered, everything in her screamed possible danger, still she stayed rooted.

It didn’t take long and the man hit the button, the lights in the room went out and an emergency light lit up. An alarm started to sound from speakers somewhere in the room. Panicking about the sudden attention drawn to her location, Clarke’s eyes scanned the room before they landed back on the man.

To her horror she noticed him striding quickly towards her, holding something in his hands. But it was too dark to see what it was. Distrusting and frightened, Clarke acted now purely on instinct. Quickly turning around she started to run as best as she could in her current state.

“Hey!”

Looking behind her Clarke saw him starting to run after her. Clarke cursed under her breath and picked up her pace trying to get to the door before the man reached her. The adrenaline pumping through her veins fueled her on. How did she always end up in situations like this one?

Clarke made it surprisingly to the door before the man could reach her, but he was getting closer. Too close. She needed him to be gone. Opening the door and slipping through it the blonde kept a firm grip on it. How far away had he been?

Counting down the seconds while listening to the sounds on the other side of the door Clarke abruptly pushed against the door with her whole body when she heard the man approaching, staggering slightly back when the man’s body collided with the door. Satisfied after hearing him groan she turned around, wanting to be gone before he had collected himself again.

Facing now her new surroundings there were three corridors, two on either side of her and one leading straight ahead. Voices and approaching steps took her the option of going left so that she quickly decided on going right. The voices got closer and the emergency light made it harder for her to see where she was walking to. More voices and steps joined the others, this time coming from the hallways leading straight ahead.

She felt like a mouse in a maze.

Trapped, and being herded to a specific place.

No real escape within sight.

Still she kept going on. She won’t give up, not without a fight. She had never given up without trying and she wouldn’t start now. No, and if she would go down here, then at least they’d remember her. They’ll remember that Three-Nineteen was no helpless little girl.

Three-Nineteen was a fighter.

Opting to change routes Clarke opened a door to her right, entering a room which wasn’t much more lightened like the other. She closed the door and hoped that her pursuer would continue going ahead, but she wouldn’t wait to see if her little distraction worked.

Clarke moved further into the room. It was different than the one she woke up in. For one, there were no people lying in beds while being hooked up to machines. Well there were machines, but it looked more like there were for maintenance.

A sudden movement in the corner of the room startled her and Clarke knew that she wasn’t alone in the room. And it also didn’t look like there was a second exit. She was trapped in this room with one of them, and more people just around the corner.

But she could deal with one person. One person would be okay. One person meant she had still a chance.

The person in the shadows got closer. Clarke’s heart hammered in her chest, she was already waiting for the perfect moment. She laid in wait, ready to attack as soon as the person was close enough. She had fought against a panther with just a knife. She could handle a human.

She had always beat the odds. She’d do it again.

Her eyes stayed on the person moving closer to her, though there was something that calmed her down. The person wasn’t approaching in a quick way but rather walking gently towards her. As far as she could see, the posture of this person didn’t seem threatening. There was almost something familiar at the way this person was moving towards her.

As the person stepped into an illuminated part of the room Clarke took a sharp intake of her breath and she felt her heart skip a beat. This couldn’t be! This must be a dream. She had hit her head and was knocked out, and all of this was just in her imagination.

The person stared at her, looking just as shocked as she felt. Clarke felt eyes mustering her. Her own eyes moistened and she couldn’t help the brief sob leaving her lips. Her opposite wasn’t faring much better.

It was like it had been just a few hours since she had last seen him. His comforting frame she had always loved to nestle herself into, his teddy bear-eyes she had grown accustomed to whenever she had achieved a new milestone in her life, showing him that she wasn’t a little girl anymore, his brown hair that hung slightly over his forehead.

“Dad?” Clarke breathed.

It took a few seconds before his gaze softened and a smile formed on his lips. The Jake-Griffin-smile. That one smile she loved and adored. The one smile she had thought she’d never see again. Clarke felt a tear making its way down her cheek but she ignored it, instead giving her dad a smile of her own.

Voices outside the room drew her attention back to the door. Her followers were just outside of this very room and she hoped that they’d move on. But she wasn’t alone anymore. Her dad was here, he’d help her. Finally a silver lining in this strange and unfamiliar environment.

Everything will be okay.

Clarke turned back to her dad ready to ask him for his help, asking him if he – by any chance – knew a way out of here. Though, just as she turned around she felt a sharp pain as something hit her hard against her temple and everything went black in an instant.

The door to the room opened just as Clarke had hit the ground, knocked out for the time being. Three uniformed and armed men entered the room. They relaxed when they saw the blonde girl lying unconscious on the ground.

One of the man nodded at Jake. “Good work, Sir.”

Jake nodded in return and watched how the three men picked up Clarke and dragged her out of the room, leaving him alone once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it.....


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I'm out sick. Not writing as much as I'd like to. Hope it will change soon, though!  
> Don't know when I'll update any of my other fics....
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 3**

Clarke was pacing restlessly for what felt like an eternity.

She had woken up in an empty room, hating the fact that this was somewhat becoming a habit of hers – getting knocked out and wake up in unknown rooms. Just like it was a habit to get locked up. Because that was the sole reason of her still being in this room after having woken up earlier.

Locked up.

Again.

Her time in lock up on the Ark made her hate closed spaces. Sure she grew up on the Ark, a huge cell on its own, but at least she had been free to go where she wanted to. That confinement coupled with the isolation from everyone else made it hell for her, knowing she was waiting for her death. Her father’s clock had been broken, the lighting always the same and no real window to look down on earth. She had lost the track of time, not really knowing if it was day or night.

This room reminded her of that damn Sky Box. It was small with no window, the lighting dimmed and there were no sounds. She hated it, felt like a trapped animal.

Yet, Clarke was still alive. That had to mean that whomever was behind all of this wanted her alive. At least that gave her some leverage over the proceedings. They wanted something.

But it had been hours since she had been knocked out – at least she thought it had been hours. Had it only been mere minutes? Or even days?

Her balance and coordination had gotten better, her pacing around the room helped getting some strength back in to her legs. But it was silent, and her thoughts were too loud.

The man in the machine room was her dad. Clarke was sure of that. He looked exactly like she remembered him, and she had instantly felt safe in his presence – like she always had.

Yet he had betrayed her, knocked her out and let those people take her. If this really was all in her imagination, Clarke wondered how cruel it had become. Her time on earth must have had a harder impact on her mind than she had thought.

One thing was clear though. Just like she had guessed, this was no normal medical facility. There was something else going on.

The sound of the door opening brought her out from her thoughts and she warily watched two men entering her little room. Her eyes flickered towards their guns. She wouldn’t make it if she tried to run now.

“Object Three-Nineteen, follow us.” One of the men ordered her.

_Object Three-Nineteen?_ She was no object. She was a human being just like them. “I have a name, you know. Use it.” Clarke growled. She was on edge, expecting danger behind every turn. She felt vulnerable and that made her reckless. Clarke knew she shouldn’t pick a fight, but she was no poor lamb waiting to be led to the slaughter. She wanted answers.

The man’s eyes narrowed. “ _Three-Nineteen._ Follow.”

Unfazed by the silent threat that could be heard in the man’s voice the blonde continued on. “Where am I? What is this place? Why are there so many people in those beds?”

“You’re coming with us now.”

“Not until I know what’s going on here.”

The second man grabbed onto her arm, pushing her towards the door. “Move!”

Giving the man a death glare, Clarke surrendered and let them lead her through the hallways. Her eyes took in every little detail, her mind drawing the outlines of the hallways on a mental map, trying to remember the path they took. She needed every information she could get of this place if she wanted to escape.

They led her down a single hallway with a dark-brown wooden door on its end. The door led into a big and bright room, there were shelves with books plastered against the walls. A huge wooden desk with a chair stood on one side. In the middle of the room stood two armchairs, facing each other.

What caught Clarke’s attention though was the woman standing next to the armchairs, obviously having waited for her to be brought here. The woman had wavy dark blonde hair, her greyish-blue eyes were glancing kindly at her. She was dressed in a grey skirt and a white blouse. Clarke guessed her to be around her mother’s age, and having grown up as a child of a doctor, she immediately picked up the doctor-vibe coming from this woman.

Giving her one last push further into the room the two men turned around, leaving the two females alone in the room.

“I apologize for the men whom brought you here. They’re not known for their manners.” The woman glanced at Clarke, waiting for a reply but Clarke stayed silent. Would this woman be her slaughter?

“I can imagine you have a lot of question.”

“That’s correct. And you better have the answers to those.” Clarke replied.

The woman pointed to a comfy-looking leather armchair opposite to where she was sitting. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

“I’d rather stand.”

“You can trust me. I just want to help you.” The woman said, smiling encouragingly at Clarke.

Clarke scoffed. “Help me? By knocking me out and locking me up? That’s a strange way to offer help. Besides, if you want my trust you’ve got to earn it first.”

“Fair enough.” The older woman replied and sat down while keeping her eyes on Clarke. “I’m Dr. Rachel Novak. I’m here to answer your questions.”

“Where are we?” Clarke voice out, her need for answers burning under her skin.

“We’re in a - _special_ \- facility located in a remote area near Portland. We’re here to study the human behavior faced with extreme situations. To learn and to understand the human mind.”

Clarke shook her head not understanding what Dr. Novak was telling her. “I don’t understand. What am I doing here? _How_ did I end up here?”

“You should really sit down.”

Since Dr. Novak was willing to talk to her, to give her the answers to her questions Clarke played along and sat down, still eyeing the woman warily. The doctor smiled. “Isn’t that much better than standing over there? Do want something to drink? A glass of water perhaps?”

“I believe I asked you a question.”

Dr. Novak sighed. She already knew that Clarke was a stubborn one. She’d have to stay careful with the blonde. “Why are you here?” She repeated Clarke’s question. “Well in reality, it’s an easy answer. For me at least. But for you, the answer will be quite confusing at the moment. Though I did promise you answers, and you’ll get them. You’re here because you’re one of the participants in our study.”

“I’m part of a study?” Clarke was indeed very confused. How did she go from being knocked out and shot at to lying in a comfortable bed while being a part of a study? Whom was even the head of this study? Certainly no Grounder. She couldn’t imagine that one of them would be interested in doing studies, especially not with such an equipment those people seem to have. But neither would her people do a study. “Portland. Where’s Portland located? Does it belong to the twelfth clans?”

“I’m afraid that this is the confusing part. Portland is a city in Oregon, a state belonging to the United States of America.”

“The old world? I’ve read about the American history when I was younger. Oregon was one of the states the bombs had hit the hardest.” If she remembered correctly, the drop ship had landed in the eastern part of the country once known as the United States.

“There were no bombs. At least not in reality.”

Once again Clarke shook her head, not really grasping what the older woman meant by that. She had seen it, back on the Ark. Clarke had seen the destruction on pictures, had seen remnants of buildings and she had seen the repercussions of the radiation. “But I’ve seen…”

“What we wanted you to see.” Dr. Novak cut off the blonde. She saw the uncertainty in the girls eyes, the truth that she seemed to fight off. Rightly so, after all she was just turning the world of this young girl upside down. “It wasn’t real. Nothing was ever real. Not the nuclear apocalypse, not the space stations, not the Grounder villages, not the capitol, not Mount Weather. Nothing of it. It’s all a huge and very, very expensive and complex simulation. A simulation simply developed for this study. Though I admit that it’s quite a controversial topic among the citizen.”

“It was not real?” Clarke asked, but it was more like a breath and meant only for her. For her to voice it out again, to let her ears hear it through her own voice. Not real? Everything she knew was a lie? Everything she had experienced? Every happy moment on the Ark? All the loss and grieve?

“I know it’s quite a lot to take in and you must be really confused right now.”

“Confused?” Clarke asked and got off the armchair. She couldn’t sit calmly on this seat anymore. “Confused doesn’t even barely state how I feel right now, _Doctor_. Try betrayed, used, furious. It’s all one huge mix of feelings.”

“And I understand that.” Dr. Novak tried to calm down the blonde girl.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think you really understand of how I feel. Not if _you_ haven’t been in this simulation _yourself_.” Clarke snapped. Her head spun, she didn’t know what to think at this moment. How did all of this happen? She just said it herself, a simulation. Not a real place, not a real home. Everything was just in her head. “I just can’t believe that all of this is a lie. That nothing of it was real.”

“I’ve talked with many other people in your situation. By now, I know enough to tell you that you’re real memories should come back one by one. You just have to give it some time.”

It was too much, all too much. She couldn’t breathe, the walls of the room felt like they were closing in on her. She needed to get out of here. Clarke spun around and headed to the door, determined to leave. To leave this woman and her lies. To forget all of this happened and find a way back to her friends and her mother.

“Please, wait.”

Clarke spun around again and glared at the older woman. “For what? For you to tell me more lies?”

“I’m not your enemy here.” The voice of Dr. Novak continued with its calmness, and the woman made no attempts to stand up to follow Clarke if she’d leave the room now. She just kept sitting there, staring at the blonde.

“Was the man who knocked me out in the machine room my dad?” Clarke blurted out, needing to know if it had indeed been her dad.

Dr. Novak sighed, the amount of patience she was sporting almost impressive. “He’s one of our employees who, like you, volunteered to take part of our study. And you’re right. He’s the one who had taken the role of an engineer on the Ark and of your father.”

“The role?”

“Of course he isn’t your real father. You’ve never met before you entered our program.” The doctor explained.

“Jake Griffin _is_ my dad.” Clarke replied stubbornly.

“ _Matthew Collins_ is _not_ your real dad. You two have no relations whatsoever beyond the simulation.” This time Novak’s voice was sterner, obviously trying a new approach. Her patience was growing thinner by the minute.

“Matthew Collins?”

“That’s his real name.” The woman looked briefly at her note pad before her eyes flickered up again. “Just as your name is Jane instead of Clarke.”

She wanted to block out the voice of Dr. Novak, wanted to just disappear. Determined, Clarke turned around and went for the door, but it wouldn’t open. She was locked up again. Trapped, forced to continue listening to those facts this woman read off of her note pad.

_Wrong_ facts.

_Lies!_

Dr. Novak finally stood up, getting closer to Clarke as she started to throw all facts at the girl whom still stood with her back to the door. “Jane Miller. Age 21. Daughter of Thomas and Madison Miller. You have a younger sister with the name Elizabeth whom just finished high school. You were born and raised in New York. You started studying medicine at John Hopkins University in Baltimore. You volunteered together with two of your friends, Paul Thompson and Laura Burdon.”

“No.” She breathed, a lone tear escaped Clarke as she pressed herself more and more against the door.

“Jane, you need to _accept_ the truth.”

Clarke shook her head, placing her hands over her ears in an attempt to block out the older woman’s voice. But it was futile. She couldn’t go anywhere. The young girl slid down the door, still shaking her head unbelieving.

This couldn’t be, could it?

Maybe she was still dreaming, laying somewhere on the ground unconscious. Yeah, that had to be it. She’d just have to wait until she’ll wake up and all of this would just be a fading nightmare.

Novak’s face softened a little, her voice back with its calmness. “You’re their favorite, Jane. You constantly surprised them. They had never been able to predict your decisions, to predict your plans and actions. You threw them off. You’re special.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, that happened. I'm very, very curious of your thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

She sat with slumped shoulders at an empty table in the canteen of this facility she was in, staring blankly at her food while hoping that no one would notice her. Clarke wasn’t hungry, food being the farthest thing on her mind at the moment.

Dr. Novak had left the room earlier to give Clarke some time for herself, to calm down and gather herself again. Clarke had waited a few minutes before she tried to open the door again, but just like before the door had been locked.

Clarke didn’t know what to think, not anymore. She didn’t want to believe Dr. Novak, wanted to brand any of her words as a lie and ignore the woman completely, yet there was something just waiting at the edge of her mind.

The blonde had no idea how much time had passed when the door had opened again and the two guards whom had led her to this awful room came in sight, telling her that they’d take her to the canteen so that she could get something to eat.

They had told her they wanted to help her.

She never stopped feeling like a prisoner though.

All the way towards the canteen, Clarke memorized her surroundings. Taking in everything she saw, the corridors, the doors the electrical locks on the doors, guards whom patrolled the corridors and their weapons.

They told her she surprised them.

She’ll keep surprising them then.

The canteen was huge, a lot of people sat there eating their meals. Some wore the same clothes she did, and some wore clothes like Dr. Novak and her dad. Guards stood around the big room, overseeing the proceedings in the canteen.

Once and then Clarke felt eyes on her, mostly the ones of fellow patients. Sometimes, when she glanced up at a person, Clarke was sure she had seen the person in the past and mused if the person had belonged to the Grounders or the Mountain Men. Both parties had suffered greatly because of her.

It would be just her luck to be in a canteen full with people she had killed, simulation or not.

Suddenly the presence of two guards whom had led her to the canteen made sense to her. She hadn’t fully accepted the alleged _truth_ yet, it had been a whole life for her after all. So she could assume that some of the others also hadn’t accepted the facts yet, maybe still not remembering their _real_ life. All they knew was the one in the simulation. The life she very well could have ended, burnt alive or contaminated with radiation.

“ _Wanheda_?”

The familiar term broke her out of her musings and she looked surprised up, her heart skipping a beat when she finally stared into a familiar face. “Aden!”

The once hated term for her among the Grounders was now balm for her soul that ached for some familiarity.

Aden gave the two guards a quick glance before he sat down in front of Clarke. The blonde was happy to see the young boy, he being still alive was definitely one of the few positive things in their situation. Clarke had been horrified when she heard what Ontari had done to Aden.

Aden’s presence reminded her of the brunette commander and Clarke let her eyes wander through the canteen, hoping her blue eyes would meet forest green ones.

“She’s not here.”

Her eyes made their way back to Aden whom smiled gently at her. Of course he had noticed her searching glance and had put one and one together. Apparently she was easier to read than she thought. Still, his confirmation of Lexa’s absence made her heart ache again.

How she longed to see the brunette again, having her calming presence next to her, making her feel safe and protected. Swimming in the confidence Lexa’s presence caused in her while inhaling the unmistakably scent of the forest.

She missed her.

Dearly.

“No one has seen her around. No one knows where she is.” Aden elaborated.

Clarke smiled, putting the thought of Lexa aside for the moment. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise, Wanheda.”

_Wanheda_. The term reminded her that she wasn’t alone in this odd situation. “What do you know about this place?”

Aden shrugged. “Not much. I know that they’re doing a study. They test and examine.” The young boy looked down to his plate, lowering his voice. “They told me that nothing had been real.”

“Do you believe them?”

“Well, I died there and woke up here.” Aden frowned and Clarke cringed at his comment. “I have no other explanation at the moment.”

“Do you know how we can leave this place?”

“They’re doing some tests and check on our health. They ask a lot of questions despite knowing what happened _there_. But apparently, once you’ve undergone all their tests, answered their questions and you’re healthy, you’re free to go.”

“Just like that?” Clarke asked, not really believing that they would let a bunch of people go out into civilization whom couldn’t remember a thing about their life before the simulation. She could easily imagine them being confused and helpless out there, probably turning unintentionally into a threat for the people out there.

“I think so? Why wouldn’t they?”

“Just a feeling.”

Aden stared curiously at the blonde. “Do you think we shouldn’t trust them?”

“They have yet to show me that they can be trusted. Up until now, they knocked me out and locked me up. Not really trustworthy, don’t you think?”

The teen pondered about Clarke’s answers silently while he began to eat his food. Following his example Clarke ate some of the food she had mindlessly piled on her plate when she had entered the canteen.

It took a few minutes until Aden spoke up again. “I think you’re right. I’m not really feeling safe here. I thought it had something to do with the lingering confusion, but it’s more the atmosphere of this place. You're free to walk around and speak with the other patients, but you’re never really alone. Not if _they_ don’t want you to be.” He glanced past Clarke towards the two guards that stood a few feet away.

_You’re special._

Was this the real reason why the two guards kept following around? Did they want something from her? But what could it be?

“Are you finished?” Aden asked and looked at her still relatively full plate.

Clarke nodded. “Yeah. I’m not really that much hungry.”

“That will change.” He smiled, apparently speaking of experience. “You’re still used to the fluids instead of real food. Your body will adjust in a day or two. You should’ve seen the amount of food I wolfed down.”

The blonde smiled at that, trying to imagine him sitting in front of a plate filled to the edge with food. Maybe even more than one plate.

“Come on. I’d like to show you something.” Aden exclaimed and stood, waiting for Clarke to stand up as well.

As soon as they were moving the two guards started to follow, resuming their place as her shadows. She followed Aden through the packed canteen, making their way through the gaps between the people and Clarke had to work hard to not loose Aden. They soon left the crowded area of the canteen and were just about to leave the canteen altogether when someone violently crashed into Clarke, barely able stay on her feet after the strong body walked into her.

Clarke looked up and stared directly into the glaring brown eyes of a huge, muscular man and if Clarke had to place him somewhere in the simulation, he’d definitely be one of the Grounders. She almost didn’t dare to breathe, waiting for what he’d do.

“Hey, move along.” One of her guards ordered.

The man grunted annoyed, not even glancing once at the guards before he pushed past Clarke again, but not without pushing against her again. He definitely had zero respect for her. If she was going to spend quite some time here, her life would probably get very interesting.

She ignored the man’s obvious display of power and put her hands into the pockets of her soft sweater ready to follow Aden out of the canteen, when her right hand suddenly came in touch with something. Her fingers gripped the item firmer, and it didn’t take long to determine that it must be some sort of piece of paper.

Risking another glance over her shoulder, Clarke met the eyes of the man whom had crashed into her and she knew instantly that he was the one having slipped the paper into her pocket, meaning the crash had been planned. However, seeing that the guards were still standing behind her she didn’t dare to look at the paper, not wanting to know about the exchange that had taken place in front of their watchful eyes.

Aden waited for her at the exit, apparently not having notice her collision with the giant man. She followed the boy further down the hall while thinking of an opportunity to look at the paper without having her guards breathing down her neck. “Hey, Aden. Do you know where I can find the bathroom?”

“Yeah, sure. I can show you. There not far from here.” Aden replied and took a turn to the left. She followed him further, until he pointed towards a door to her left.

“Thanks. I won’t be long.” She said and her eyes flickered briefly towards the guards before she entered the bathroom. Clarke made sure that she was indeed alone before she pulled out the piece of paper.

It wasn’t a big piece, and it was folded in the middle. She opened the note and quickly read the words written on it.

_Be ready for the signal._

That was all. One sentence. Nothing more and nothing less. Clarke didn’t even have an idea whom could’ve written her the note. Was it the man whom crashed into her? Was it one of _them_? Could she even trust the writer of the note?

_Be ready for the signal._

What signal? Was she supposed to recognize the signal? Was it an alarm or something else? If it was something else how was she to know that it was a signal meant for her?

A knock on the door startled her and she quickly hid the note back into her pocket when she heard Aden calling out for her. The blonde left the stall she used for hiding and left the bathroom, smiling apolitically at Aden.

Her guards were staring warily at her but said nothing. Clarke wondered if Dr. Novak had said anything to them regarding their behavior towards her, seeing that they hadn’t been so silent when they had fetched her from her room.

“Are we good to go?” Aden asked and she nodded, continue to follow the young boy. He still hadn’t told her where exactly they were going to.

It didn’t take long and they entered a bigger room. There wasn’t much in it, and it was honestly rather empty. The only thing in the room were several monitors, each showing a different frozen images. The cameras were displaying people walking over plaza, wearing different clothes. Some were holding devices to their ears, some were holding brown paper cups. Clarke soaked in every detail displayed from every monitor in the room.

“Those are broadcasts live from different places around the world. That way they want to show us a little of the world outside these walls. Maybe even trigger our memories.” Aden glanced back to the monitors. “I still don’t remember anything. I keep staring at them, but there’s nothing.”

Clarke felt like she was back on the Ark watching old movies with her family. It was exactly like that. And now people were trying to tell her that she was part of this world, of this society shown on the monitors. But just like Aden told her, there was nothing. No memory, no sense of familiarity.

She felt no connection to this world.

Suddenly the lights and the monitors went out and they were left standing in complete darkness. Not even the emergency light took over. Clarke heard the guards shuffle around, and she could easily imagine them contemplating the best way of action, could even hear one of them asking via their walkie-talkie about the reason for the sudden black-out.

This, Clarke thought, this was something she’d define as a signal.

Things certainly will be interesting from now on.

 


End file.
